A Day in the Life at the University of Nottingham

The original draft, produced for 'Fireball Whisky'. I'd like to reiterate this was written in an attempt to appeal to the target audience. It is not a reflection of my attitude towards university. If it was, I wouldn't have successfully got through one year, let alone three.

http://www.ignitethenite.co.uk/a-day-in-the-life-of-a-university-of-nottingham-student/

A Day in the Life at the University of Nottingham

What UCAS didn't tell us…

Alarm goes off, 8 o clock, Monday morning. An early start to kick off what you are determined will be a productive week – head down in books, plenty of studying, minimal social life – that’s right, this is your degree, and you’re going to get a damn good grade! Just 5 more minutes, though.

You wake up, squint at the clock to focus… Five hours have passed and it’s 1 o’clock. B******s. Never mind, there’s always tomorrow, or next week failing that. What’s important right now is breakfast (can you call it that?). You drag yourself out of bed, and into the communal kitchen where Sensible Sally has just come back from her 4 hour morning stint in the library. Still ignoring that overwhelming sense of failure, you search through your food cupboard. Well, search is an exaggeration. What you actually do is pull out a pack of Super Noodles for it happens to be all that the food cupboard has to offer at this moment in time – that’ll do.

Now, there are lots of myths about university. Living on Super Noodles is one of them. I don’t know anybody who lives off Super Noodles at University. In self-catered halls, most like to think of themselves as quite the professional in the kitchen, so expect to start rustling up gourmet meals that Delia would be proud of! (or, so you convince yourself). In catered halls, well, you’re catered. No other explanation needed. Anyway, moving on…

You throw on some clothes and rush to your one and only lecture of the day, sitting down discreetly at the back in hope that nobody noticed your late arrival, only to spend the next hour struggling desperately to stay awake. An hour passes, you've managed to note down one sentence and you’re still awake, result. You walk out feeling like a king. A sense of euphoria hits you, a celebration is in order. You take out your phone…
“Steve?”. “Yep?”. “You make it?”. “No mate, gave it a miss today, bit ill”. “Good call, Mooch?”. “Great call, see you there”.

And so you head to the University of Nottingham student bar, Mooch, for a well deserved celebratory pint. Mooch is a great little bar – good food, drinks, great prices, right in the middle of campus. Your mates (let’s call them… Mike and Pete) meet you there and suggest a FIFA tournament back at theirs. Now, there’s one thing you should consider – if you can’t play FIFA, learn to. If you don’t, you’ll be making sandwiches, sending letters home to parents and a shed load of other punishments in order to ‘apologise’ for your disgraceful performances. On your way home you get handed a flyer for Oceana. Oceana is the official Monday night venue for University of Nottingham students. All students, yourself (by this time) included, are fully aware of this. But yes, you do need a flyer to remind you, in case you forget, or go to the wrong place, or need some persuasive advertising to convince you. You make the executive decision that tonight you’re all off to Oceana, and send a group text around to let all your mates know the good news. Replies, in general, follow one of the following two formats:
“Oh my god! That’s only 6 hour’s away and I have nothing to wear! I need to start getting ready!!”. Or…
“Sounds good. See you in a bit for FIFA”. I’ll leave it up to your imagination which gender fits which generic reaction.

6pm. For the guys, FIFA begins and Pizza’s are ordered. For the girls (oops, I've blown it, sorry!), panic begins, and Clothes options are contemplated (I apologize for the excessive stereotyping used here, I assure you these are as much of a myth as the Super Noodles, honest…)
Three hours later. Pete is off creating a Moonpig card for you. Nice work on the 10-0 victory, by the way! The rest of the guys jump in the shower (Oh hilarious. No, not together) and pick out whatever they can find to wear on their bedroom floor. The girls, unhappy with their choice of attire, change. Again.

Pre drinks eventually start with a nice quiet game of ‘Ring of Fire’. Pete, not having a good day, finds the last King in the pack, and next thing you know he’s downing a pint of wine, beer and Tesco Value vodka mixed together into a horrible concoction of student grossness. Again, if you’re not familiar with the rules of Ring of Fire, learn them. Unlike Pete, ‘One Beer Nigel’, or so he is now to be called, fails to handle his drink. For Nigel, the night is cut short, as he is stretchered off to the toilet to throw up that sandwich that Steve was obliged to make him earlier.

Not long before the taxis are due, you stumble over a… well, you don’t stumble over anything actually. You just stumble over. You sensibly and correctly conclude that you’re not drunk enough - time for the ‘Fireball’ Whisky to come out, clearly.

Oceana is packed. You’re not sure why but some unknown celebrity, supposedly from ‘The Only Way is Essex’, is showing off his array of talents by acting as stand-in DJ for your entertainment. Instead, you opt for the ‘Cheese room’. A wise choice given the circumstances, I sense. Whilst you and your mates show off your dance moves to hits from the likes of Busted, McFly and the Vengaboys – Sober Sharon, complete in her usual sense-of-mind, feels vividly scarred by the horrific scene in front of her (by that, I mean your dancing) and decides it would be best to make a quiet escape. She never liked Busted anyway (Sharon, if you’re reading, we know you’re lying, who doesn’t love ‘Year 3000’? You’re not fooling anybody).

Upstairs, that guy from television has made way for the professional, and there’s a gap at the bar just waiting for you to get in that round of Jagerbombs before you hit the dancefloor in what you consider a sufficiently intoxicated state. Oceana feels like paradise! (Go take a look in the morning, you might find yourself with a difference of opinion). What’s that you hear now? Is that the Baywatch theme tune? Now you’re experiencing a true University of Nottingham night out. For some reason, at every official University of Nottingham club night, when the Baywatch theme tune plays, the guys proceed to take their shirts off and swing them around their heads. Honestly, it’s quite a ritual (you’ll see, soon). You take part in a desperate attempt to show off your ‘six pack’ to girls you believe you’re surrounded by (Don’t worry, no matter how poor your topless physique, rest assured there will be somebody worse off than you!).

Before heading home you make a quick pit-stop at McDonalds, ensuring you flash your student card and collect your complimentary extra cheeseburger! The next part is a bit of a blur. I think a safe bet would be that it involved falling into a bush somewhere, though. Just a hunch…

You wake up the next morning, 8am alarm still set from the previous day, ready to get to work. You hear Sally up and about, getting ready to head off to the library. Your head has different plans though, so you make a wise decision in giving it 10 minutes more rest before you follow Sally’s example…
You wake up, Its 1 o’clock. B******s. Never mind, there’s always tomorrow, or next week. Now, how about something to cure that hangover? Super Noodles, perfect.